It was a toughy

My only communicable (eww, gross) thought after last week's visit to Chemawa was, "It was a toughy," and not because the students were mean to me or because they were difficult to work with. Sometimes, I'd almost rather have those problems than the problems that we deal with each week. I worked with Emilio--again, very bright, very excited to show me some poetry he's working on, very easy to talk with and quite willing to do his homework. Our issue was basic, basic mathematics. He's a geometry student that doesn't understand what dividing and multiplying actually mean, let alone how to do them or how to ramble off his multiplication tables. He isn't the first student I've worked with that doesn't have a good handle on math principles, but he is farther behind than many of his peers. He isn't choosing not to do his work because he doesn't want to, it's because he can't even behind to comprehend what the assignment is asking him to do, and by now his pride and security are at stake along with his education. We worked through things the best we could. I had to reach back pretty far to remember how one goes about explaining fractions, the idea of dividing a whole something into pieces of a something, and how that applies to geometry proofs and line angles. I encouraged him to be honest with his teacher about what his hang-ups are, and urged him to get as much help NOW as he can, because his math assignments will not get any easier and it will never be less important to know basic math concepts.

All I want after nights like those is to take one student under my wing and work, work, work for some progress. I looked around the room at one point and realized that I had spent time with nearly half of the students present, and each of them struggles with basic math. So, it was a tough night for the feeling, caring person in me that wants something better for everybody else and myself.